


Dreaming

by ShirinOfTheGreatRift



Series: Dreaming of a Tranquil Wake [2]
Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Dreaming, Gen, History of Dreamsend, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirinOfTheGreatRift/pseuds/ShirinOfTheGreatRift
Summary: “To heal the Body you must heal the Mind,” That was their motto, their ideal, their being.It was their excuse to justify their actions.They were Dreamsend.And they were nothing but regrets.





	1. The History of Dreams

 

_Those who have compared our life to a dream were right.... We sleeping wake, and waking sleep. ~Michel de Montaigne_

 

* * *

 

"To heal the Body you must heal the Mind,”

That was their motto, their ideal, their being.

 It was their excuse to justify their actions.

 They were not kind, they would admit, but they tried to be. They would do things with the purpose to right what have been wronged, but the wrong they would do would always leave a stain in their ideals.

 They had good intentions, _have_ good intentions. But it always goes wrong.

 “We want to help them,” They would say, opening their hands and fighting to stop it from quivering in uncertainty. Would they be frightened? Would they understand? Would they be accepted? They have become so used to disappointing people that it was hard not to feel disappointed themselves. “We did all this so that we could help them,”

 They were Dreamsend.

 And they were nothing but regrets.

* * *

 

No one knew how it started, but they knew a little about who started it.

 It was a man – they said – a man who knew everything.

 At first people laughed at the workers of the enterprise, _“What kind of description is that?”_ They mocked, ignorant, unknowing _“There is no such thing as a person who knew everything,”_  

 And sometimes, _sometimes,_ the worker would agree, laughing alongside them and saying that it was all a joke and that the man was just someone who seems to know many things, Only for their face to slacken the moment they left and look towards them with ignorant pity.

 No one really believed them when they said that the man who started everything _knew_ everything, no one took it _literally._

But he did know everything, you see. He was not omnipotent, but he knew everything.

 No one knows how, it simply _is._

* * *

 

It was he who introduced the concept of using Psychic users on the scientific and medical fields.

  _“You’re crazy,”_ The wise men said, mocking the man for his ludicrous idea on television from his cushioned throne. But the man did not deter from the insult, in fact he just smiled knowingly, and explained in clear and concise words the reason behind his radical outlook.

 _"_ _The mind is a network of impossibilities,”_ The man said to one man, and was heard by a million more, faceless, but important nonetheless _“Neuroscience alone already states of its importance by it being the one organ you cannot live without for even a nanosecond. But we have only grasped the surface! No, we have not even touched it! And we will never touch on it if we ignore the glaring factor that is the abilities of a psychic user! Just as there is only 10% of the human brain fully understood by society, there is so much more to be researched when it comes to the reality warping prowess of a psychic user!”_

 His hand was stretched out, his smile inviting, his eyes knowing, and suddenly he was the only voice in a land of silence.

_"Think of the possibilities! The people we could help! The lives we could save! The discoveries we could make! If only we open our doors to this unexplained phenomenon!”_

_“We must take these abilities seriously if we want to advance! So that one day, these abilities would prove their worth to society and aid us in the coming years!”_

_“So that one day, they may heal what the physical hands could not! The mind!”_

 And when that hand, outstretched to one man, crowned to become the nations’ answers to questions, was taken with gusto, the future was set.

 And the man just smiled knowingly.

* * *

 

Dreamsend Enterprise was but of many organizations that sprouted after that. Their leader, an idealistic but ingenious man, was a renowned psychiatrist who has had his share of the wonders of the mind, and believed that this power could be tempered and used as a therapy agent for the mentally ill and the depressed.

 _“Perhaps it could become the greatest form of therapy yet!”_ The man once cheered alongside his co-owners.

 The people were skeptical still however. After all, what was the use of manipulating dreams? It wasn’t as if they were easily remembered after all. The whole idea in on itself was strange at best, and that came from the people who lived in the same time as the grand opening of the Academy of Future Dreamers and Teleporters.

 No, society did not expect much from this small company of dream researchers. They were more dreamers than researchers after all, and their idea of therapy was convoluted at best.

 They certainly did _not_ expect this very organization to the first ones to actually _manipulate_ the things inside a person’s dream. They did not expect that _at all._

But they did, and it was a success that had caused much gloating from the workers of the project.

  _Much_ gloating indeed.

  _“Imagine the dream being something like a seamless cloth, with our mechanization being the thread and needle.”_ they said excitedly in a press conference. _“Using the four major Intuitive abilities: Clairvoyance, Clairsentience, Clairaudience, and_ _Claircognizance_ _, as well as users prominent in Astral Projection, Lucid Dreaming, and in some cases Oneiromancy, we were able to inject a percent of a person’s essence into our subject, connecting their dreams together. With the added mental boost of the clear mind of a psychic user, the patient’s dream slowly morphs into something coherent to both the dreamer and the intruder. From there, we only need to inject the essence of other psychic users into the consciousness in order to further control the landscape, thus creating a space in the mind stable enough to manipulate,”_

The people cheered, it was the discovery of the century, suddenly that man’s words of the mind being the key to all cures wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded.

 It was on this day that Dreamsend Enterprise solidified its place in current society, allowing new projects to be made and new discoveries to unfold.

 Back then, they were happy. Back then, they were hopeful.

 But that was because they didn’t know then, they did not foresee this future.

 They did not see the consequences.

* * *

 

Many years have passed, and many things have changed.

 Dreamsend only grew and developed.

 Dreamsend Research Institute – a division of the enterprise that focuses the manipulation of dreams to their bidding – had finally created a way for another human consciousness aside from the dreamer to enter a dream world. At first, this was impossible, just injecting a human’s essence was difficult enough, let alone their consciousness. But with what they have dubbed “The Dream Pod”, it is now possible to enter a person’s dream realm as well as manipulate it at the same time. Many found the machine to be something close to a miracle because of that, and begged for its secret.

 The researchers did not say anything. It was ominous to say the least.

  _“No matter,”_ The people said excitedly, ignorant, ignoring, too excited to see reason _“It’s still a wondrous invention. Think of the possibilities!”_

 With the insistence of the people, the dream pods were made public to the world. But, to the people’s aggravation, were used strictly for their main purpose. Therapy.

 And _only_ therapy.

 It wasn’t as if the people were disappointed per say, the dream pods themselves were another major leap in the medical field. Gone were the days were being brain dead due to coma were a thing. As constant checking and aids from Dreamsend Guidance Incorporated and Dreamsend Trade Incorporated – the two other divisions that focus on entering the dream and stabilizing the dreamer – kept the dreamer’s mind awake and healthy enough till the day they awakened, as well as giving closure to those who fell into coma due to a failed attempt in suicide. It helped that it had scientifically proven that coma patients who undergo regular checkups by Dreamsend agents woke up earlier than those who did not get regular checkups.

 As such, they should not have been disappointed. But they were.

 After all, was that the only thing they could do?!

 They could go into _dreams!_ They could manipulate the _mind!_ Were they really just going to use it for Therapy?!

 Through few showed it, many were outraged.

 But the boss did not budge. It was _his_ project after all, _his_ idea. He created the process as a way to calm people, not to satisfy them.

 And for a time, that was that. A cold war between the people’s desires and one man’s most cherished dream.

 And from his simple wooden chair, the man who started it all just smile knowingly.

* * *

 

The first public incident of the Enterprise happened because of a comatose child and a greedy uncle.

 The child, a girl, barely reaching 12 years old, was the only survivor of a wealthy and politically strong family that died in a car crash last Christmas eve. With her family dead and her barely hanging on, the inheritance the family held was put up on question, as it did not say in the will what would happen should none of them survive. This debacle had cause multiple feuds between the estrange family, one of which was a middle aged man who happened to work as a Guide post in Dreamsend Guidance Incorporated.

They should have known really, that something was up the moment the man outright demanded to be assigned to her dream.

But they didn’t, they couldn’t have. They did not dwell on the personal lives of their agents aside from the barest of demographics. They had thought that the man was simply worried for the girl. There was a vacant slot for a third guide post anyways, as it actually takes many dreamers injecting their essence at once to give a dreamer enough energy to stabilize their dream. They were family, who were they to deny his wish?

 The man, along with two other Guide posts, two pairs of traders, two researchers, and one conductor from the Ministry of Dreamsend Management, entered the child’s dream using the dream pods.

 After ten hours, an emergency signal was lit in the dream repeatedly, the researchers and the ministry rushed to close the program and remove the agents form their pods. But while they were successful in dismantling the pods and turning off the machine, the agents stayed asleep. The workers tensed. This had never happened before.

 After twenty four hours, the workers were getting restless. No matter what they did to wake them up the agents remained asleep. They even took the risk of entering their dream at their state, but were always awoken the moment they shut their eyes due to the sheer presence permeating in the dream.

 After forty seven hours, two of the agents, one Guide Post and one Trader, finally awoke, panicked and afraid and spouting things about nightmares and horror, before passing out from exhaustion. The workers sighed in relief at the sight of the two, but gazed worriedly at the others.

 After fifty hours.

 …After fifty hours…

 …After…fifty…hours…

 

…

 

* * *

 

Nine people. Dead.

 It was the darkest day in the enterprises’ history.

 News spread like wildfire, people were confused, frightened, angered. They pointed fingers at everything at their sights. The pods, the workers, the leader, no one was safe from blame. They wanted someone to blame, someone to taint, someone to bare all the burdens of their hatred.

Dreamsend only ignored them, more focused on the true problem at hand.

What had happened? What caused this catastrophe?

It was obvious that the uncle was involved, no doubt about that. But what exactly did he do to get that kind of reaction? This was not the first time a relative visited a comatose patient after all, and it certainly wasn’t the first time the patient had been agitated by the presence of another person in their dream either.

So what went wrong?

 _"That poor girl’s uncle just kept pushing her!”_ One of the survivors, the Guide Post, cried as she was questioned, clutching the other survivor – a Dreamsend Trader – rather painfully by the neck, thus causing the already blue haired man to lose whatever red he had left on his face _“We tried to stop him, but he just kept teleporting away from us until he just – disappeared! From our radar!”_

 _“Gah, It took us a while to realize that the both of them were teleported into an undeveloped area,”_ The trader grimaced after getting the girl off his neck and awkwardly letting the albino woman cling on his arm instead. Had the conversation not been so serious, the interviewer would have joked about how awkward the trader was acting despite being a womanizer. _“We went there as fast as we could! But by the time we got there…the girl…she was…,”_

The trader paused, before opening his mouth and spouting-

 

Lies.

Lies.

He was spouting lies.

 

He had to be.

 

It wasn’t possible.

 

It can’t- It isn’t!

 

It was ridiculous…some made up story to hide their failure.

 

After all, who would believe that a little girl like her would split into two, with the second girl becoming a black monster and eating her other half and her uncle?

 

No. No it wasn’t possible.

 

…

 

No one…

 

No one must know of this.

 

No one must speak of this!

 

This conversation never happened!

 

It…It won’t happen again!

* * *

  _“But it will,”_ The man said to no one in particular, still knowing, still kind, but sad beyond knowledge _“Oh it will,”_

* * *

 

It was as if the devil entered the land of dreams and stayed there, killing everyone at sight.

 

_“Six dead, three survivors,”_

_“A black monster appeared-!”_

_“Two dead, two survivors,”_

_“It kept chasing us! It was so fast-! So very fast!”_

_“Nine dead, no survivors,”_

_“God, Help, HELP! I DON’T WANT TO DIE-!”_

**_“Ah…AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”_ **

****

Amidst this chaos, an idealistic man looked at himself in the mirror, dirty and disarrayed, and wondered why the gods have decided cursed such an innocent dream.

* * *

They were no longer allowed to operate in a hospital.

 It was bound to happen. Everyone knew that. They had made one too many mistakes that led to disaster. No one was happy at the thought, not the workers, not the press, and especially not their leader. Years of success, years of blood and tears, wasted because of one incident. No longer could their research be used to help people awaken. No longer can they continue what their corporation was created to do.

 Dreamsend was ruined.

  _“Serves them right!”_ Society sneered, their two-faced grins that were once used to praise their works showing their true colors, Oh how ugly they turned out to be. _“Murderers! Their nothing but murderers!”_

No. No they weren’t…They just wanted to help.

 They just wanted to help.

It was the final straw for their leader. They was rejected by the institute they have worked so tirelessly to gain trust to, They were ridiculed as a failure on the medical field, They had no hope of ever regaining the trust of the people. It was too much, it was all too much for him.

By the time his co-workers realized that their friend was gone for too long, they were too late. The man was already floating above them, neck bent so that it looked like he was staring at someone right beside him, a child, small and innocent, with a dream to help everyone around him.

 But there was no one there.

* * *

 

Dreamsend grieved on that day, but could never show it.

 No one said anything about the incident. No matter how hard the few people who still believed in them pressed the workers or the co-owners for information about their leader, who society hasn’t seen for months, no one opened their mouths. They were a prideful bunch after all, A prideful and close bunch that think of each other as family through and through.

_“What the hell is your deal!?”_

_“What I do is none of your concern, now leave me be,”_

Well, most of them did.

 To say that researchers from the Dreamsend Research Institute had a stick up their rear hole was already polite in a sense. Unlike Guide Posts and Traders, Researchers were lone wolves who respected the idea of individuality, to the point that one could easily spend their entire day in the Institute without seeing a single other Researcher. Conductors once came to the boss of Dreamsend itself with the head of the research institute reluctantly being dragged in their arms to complain about their lack of proper work etiquette. But to the surprise of many back then, the psychiatrist only laughed and agreed with them, brushing off their comment with a simple _“Let them do what they do best,”._

Two weeks after that incident, the same head came back to the office and announced to his boss that they had just created the dream manipulator, and the boss congratulated each and every one of them with a smile.

 Their egos were rather bloated after that, much to the others’ dismay.

 That smile will never come to them anymore though. No matter how many inventions they created, how big their breakthroughs become, how high they reached in success, that man’s smile will not congratulate them anymore.

 

…

 

The researched frowned, drowning out the words of the trader behind him as he scurried off towards the opposite direction, not caring where he went, so long as he was alone. He will continue to do what he was brought here to do.

 Behind him, the people began to cry as the funeral begun.

* * *

 

Having lost their main purpose, Dreamsend was at a loss at what to do next.

 They had always been a medical institute since the beginning, and yet now, not even tiny clinics would accept them. Should they really give their machine to the public to use for their own devices? But even the most desperate man would rather buy their own noose than sponsor their product. How about giving it to the government to be used in whatever they see fit? But then they would be tarnishing their fallen leader’s dream by giving it to a group that would ultimately use it as a killing/ Interrogation machine.

 Does that mean that there was no hope left?

 

  _“Agh! This is so complicated! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”_

_“Ah! No, don’t hit your head on the wall! We can do this! I know we can, we just need to think farther from the box!”_

Dreamsend Guidance refused to give up on the company, and encouraged everyone – yes, even the antisocial Researchers, they always seem to find them no matter where they hid – to think the same.

 Out of all the institutes, those under Dreamsend Guidance were the most ideological and loyal to the dream and mission of Dreamsend. They were the peacemakers of the place, always smiling and laughing and helping in anything that would help others. That did not mean that they were clueless by any means necessary though, they are kind simply because that is their strength.

 As such, it comes to a surprise by many just hove difficult it is to enter it.

 When applying for one of the four sections of the enterprise, one must have a certain level of skill as well as psychic ability, through their requirements vary between sections. Dreamsend Guidance was no different in their recruitment procedures, in fact, one could say that it tied with Dreamsend Management in hardest section to apply to, due to their extremely specific requirements that are difficult to fake. For one, the applicant must have the ability to teleport, which requires an extreme amount of mental power to do. Another is the fact that those who apply for guide post MUST be attractive, physically and personality wise, as they will be the ones who spend the most time with the patient, or at the very least, knows how to smile and be polite.

 The third requirement, is that they must be kind.

 They must be the kind of person who would keep a door open for the person behind them, who would call out to a person who’s shoes are untied, who would pick up a wallet and give it back to the owner. They are the kind of people who are friendly with strangers, who would help them if they needed it, who would speak nicely to them regardless of how they act.

 They need not be leaders of charity fundraisers, martyrs for the poor, or living saints, who are known only for being generous and loving, and nothing else. They need only be kind.

 Because the thought that someone out there truly cared for you can become the most miraculous of medicines.

 It was for this reason that, despite the horror they had witnessed and the grief they have caused in their time as Guide Posts, they still believed and yearned to help people.

 

…

 

The Guide Post gave the Conductor a smile as she stopped the woman’s head from hitting the wall for the fourth time. They were still hopeful.

 They were still kind.

* * *

 

The only reason why they haven’t shut down yet was simple.

 Dreamsend Traders are _damn_ good at their job.

At the sidelines, a reluctantly appointed Researcher was staring wide eye at the supposed “idiot” of the group, Sweet-talking through insult after insult with a smile on his face before tricking the victim in front of him into signing a contract that forces him to continuing working with them instead of steadily retreating like he originally planned to.

After the horrible incident that occurred, many companies that were working with the enterprise attempted to recede. It was a survival tactic really, no one wanted to be in a boat as it began to sink after all. As such, they attempted to turn their heads and leave the Enterprise to crumble under itself.

 Mind the word: _attempted_

Due to the leader of the Enterprise being decommissioned, the responsibility of handling external business landed at the hands of the owner of Dreamsend Trade Incorporated, who in turn, divided the workload onto the first halves of his traders, confident that they will get the job done.

 Unlike other Corporations, Traders are always paired. That is because there are two kinds of Traders in this section. The _Manufacturer_ and The _Promoter._

The Manufacturer is the Psychic half of the duo. Using their ability, they create the objects that will aid the dreamer in understanding their dreams and finding a way out of it. They are often people with unlimited imagination and knowledge, as well as having the strongest Psychic abilities in the entire enterprise. It is because of this, however, that they are also the most mentally weak to external forces, because they use most of their mental power in their psychic abilities.

 When Dreamsend began to crumble, they were the first to panic, like little children in the dark.

 It is for this reason that Promoters are assigned to them.

 Promoters are by far, the most average out of all positions. They have the easiest requirements, the average psychic abilities, and the most free time out of all of them. Their job is simply to sell the products created by the Manufacturer, instead of simply giving it to them. This is so that the dreamer is forced to work for the items they desire, giving them a sense of purpose in their dreamscape, and preventing their consciousness form going dull.

 This part of the dreamscape is crucial for the continued health of the patient, as such, Promoters are trained to make their products sound as desirable as possible despite this all being imaginary without angering the dreamer. Prices, appearance, and names are all under the jurisdiction of Promoters.

What they don’t know is that majority of the Promoters are well versed in the horrors of the underworld. Not all of them, but many, so many.

After all, it takes a certain amount of backbone to smile at a person who is at their lowest, and tell them that life is not easy and that it was no different in their own mind.

It is because of this that, when it was revealed that none of the companies attempting to escape succeeded in doing so, no one was really surprised anymore. (Except the researchers, they’re a bunch of clueless introverts like that.)

The companies can’t even _sue_ them for anything, because in the eye of even the most shrewd of lawyers, the contract was perfectly _clean._

 Promoters were just _damn_ good at their job.

 

_“Just sign here, here, and oh! Here~! See? Was that so hard? Pleasure doing business with you, alright?”_

The Guide post giggled before closing the mouth of the gaping researcher himself as he and the Promoter’s Manufacturer stared at the scene in wonder. Said researcher didn’t even notice.

It was like witnessing a tornado, it is horrible, but you just can’t look away.

* * *

 

They thought things were going alright for a moment. Their legs were cut, but they were still trying to get up. They just needed the opportunity, and when it came, they would be ready to take it. Everything was going _smoothly._

The Man smiled at the grave in front of him. It was a sad smile, small yet full of pity and sadness for the person lying in the earth bellow.

In his hands was the deceased’s will.

 _"Not yet,”_ He said to himself before neatly pocketing the will _“Just a little more, just a little more,”_

The man turned from the newly built grave, he took out something form his other pocket, and suddenly, his smile did not look kind.

 In his hands was the key to Dreamsend Management.

* * *

The Boss of Dreamsend Management died two weeks ago from heart failure. The Co-Owners were saddened by this, but accepting to what happened. The woman was old after all, an old and frail person who already had a family history of sudden deaths under her belt. She was a shrewd woman back then, always the first to insult someone for not doing their job properly and showing them the problem. It was because of this that she became the head of Dreamsend Management despite her closing death.

Dreamsend Management was the sole reason why the Enterprise didn’t make a mistake until that faithful day.

Conductors from Dreamsend Managements are the both the main powers for creating the dreamscape, as well as the first people to know if something is wrong. They create the symphony that is a person’s dream, and monitor what should be altered by the researchers. Should the dreamscape look girly? How dangerous is the dream? How many people are required to enter it? Should they include monsters for added alertness? Should they even alter their appearances into something less realistic? All these questions are answered by them.

As such, you could only guess how they felt when the horrible incident occurred.

It did not help that the Research and Trading department both held a level of grudge at them for this. Out of all the sections that enter the dreamscape, it was these two departments that suffered the greatest casualties.

Dreamsend Guidance was the most forgiving of their failure, but that is only because they too were at fault with what happened. It’s just that they did something about it.

The Conductors began to recede into themselves after that, taking the blame but doing nothing about it. They let any form of responsibility get pushed aside for another department to take. It grew to a point that not a single Conductor was seen for an entire month. The others were worried about this, but they were too busy, they couldn’t help.

They wished they could have helped.

It was only when their leader died did they show themselves again, in black clothes and heavy frowns. 

 

_“Just a little more, just a little more,”_

One of the Conductors, a woman with straight blond hair, muttered to herself silently. Her memory flashed back to the past, when the woman who was once alive shook hands with a strange man, before giving him her last will and the key to her office.

 All because of one line he spoke to her

* * *

_“I’ll make things better, I promise,”_

* * *

No sooner than two weeks after she was buried, a man came claiming he held her last will. A very familiar man.

The Co-Owners gaped at the man, it wasn’t everyday you met the man who legalized Psychic abilities after all.

Since when did that old woman meet this man?

The Co-Owners didn’t know, they didn’t understand. Because right now, the Man who shook hands with the president himself was talking to them and spouting things they couldn’t understand in their shock.

The Man laughed at their expressions, a good, hearty laugh that lit up the room. It brought a sad smile on their faces though. It was much too like the laugh their dearly departed friend once gave to them.

This smile, however, turned to a frown very quickly; as they read what piece of paper had to say and the position the old woman wanted the Man to take. The frown turned into a full on scowl when they rushed out the room and confirmed it by talking to the Conductors closest to her. The scowl turned into a barrage of rants and insults when they came back to find the Man smiling at them before standing up and explain to them what he wants to do with the company.

And finally, the rants and insults had gone silent. For as despicable as they have found this man to be, they had no other choice but to follow his lead.

* * *

 

The plan the newly appointed head of Management gave was simple.

Instead of using the Dreampods as early access therapy sessions like they were initially designed to be, use it to reform criminals that are a menace to the world by getting into their heads, finding out the root of the problem, and letting the criminal confront it.

Honestly, no one even thought of using their dreampods like that. Aside from the Traders, They feared entering the mind of a criminal, after all. Feared whatever horrors they may see, and what dangers they may face. But the Man encouraged them, oh, how he encouraged them. He told them that this was the only way. That it would be difficult, but worth it in the end. That the psychiatrist who brought them all together would be proud of them for finding away to get back up after that horrible incident, while still holding firm to their beliefs and mission.

It was only a matter of time before someone listened, and then another, and another and-

Suddenly everyone was agreeing to the Man. Their eyes shone bright at the thought of the possibilities and adjustments they will have to work on to ensure the safety of their workers.

But they were _working again,_

_And it felt so good to work again._

The Man smiled. Just a little more.

* * *

  
The Government was surprisingly accepting to this, it rang warning bells in the co-owners’ heads.

It almost seemed like this was all planned…

 _No_ They shook their heads and shook hands with the influential man _It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is keeping this profession alive._

_Just a little more…_

* * *

The first prisoner was a disaster.

They had completely forgotten about the dark entity.

The workers completely and utterly panicked at the first sight of the entity, leaving the dreamer to be taken by the entity and escaping the dreamscape. By the time the conductors and researchers came back to the sleeping body of the dreamer, he had already died

They…are rather lucky they decided to use people already in the death row.

This was a predicament, however. How do they get past that beast and allow their workers to traverse the dreamscape safely?

Then the Man came by the research facility, holding in his arms an impressive stack of papers.

In these papers were orders to create a drug that will prevent the entity from entering the dreampod and attacking the workers for a certain amount of time.

Three months later, The Research department came out with a single injection, and tested it on their fortieth victim.

This medicine would then be called “The Happy Dream”

* * *

 

The Happy Dream worked like this:

The drug is injected into the Prisoner’s blood stream and knocks the Prisoner out cold with a sleeping agent. The drug then travels the blood stream until it reaches the brain, which then activates the second function of the drug, to induce the dreamscape that becomes the foundation, as well as connecting the unconscious mind to the conductors, who will then stabilize the dreamscape into something a conscious mind can travel into. By doing this, the Dreamer – and the monster that resides in its dreams – remains unconnected to the workers, who continue to use the dream pods as a way of entering the dreamscape.  

But that is not all it does. The Happy Dream also allows the dreamscape to work regardless of any conductors monitoring it. This is done by using the prisoner’s own innate psychic abilities to maintain what is already created. This is also the reason why the dreamscape begins to lose form the more guilt the prisoner is feeling, as the emotional turmoil causes the Prisoner’s psyche to slowly break down, thus causing glitches to appear in the dreamscape.

The greatest achievement, however, was that the monster that appears in the dreamscape becomes weakened by the Prisoner’s psyche, and while that is because the monster splits itself into smaller forms, it was still a blessing to find that being killed by the monster no longer kills them in real life. This is not the case for the dreamer; however, as the results are still instantaneous death should all workers escape the dream before waking them.

Everyone was still very happy with this breakthrough. A bit regretful they couldn’t think to do this sooner, but happy nonetheless.

 And yet…they made the same mistake twice.

 And celebrate too soon.

 The Man said nothing, however, and continued smiling.

* * *

 

Due to their shift in tones, everything had to change.

The Prisoners’ mind was a dangerous place, filled with tragedies and grief and murder. The worlds they created signified a part of their life that shook them terribly, and were the reason why they turned out the way they did.

The very sight of the places shook them enough to break down the moment they opened their eyes.

Because of this, Conductors began warping the lands inside the dreamscape to become less realistic and more symbolical than anything, enough to disturb the Prisoner, but not frighten. Researchers, on the other hand, are sent to examine the world and it’s specimens to see which ones should be changed or not for the next victim.

They were not the only ones who had to change a few things to make this work either. For Dreamsend Traders, Only Promoters are allowed to traverse the world of the prisoner freely, while Manufacturers must stay in the space provided for them to prevent their minds from being attacked by whatever monstrosities outside. Guide Posts are in a similar position as the Manufacturers, as the cruelty they may witness may become too much for them to handle, as such they are only able to teleport in safe areas, such as the Trading Post, the Researcher’s abode, and The Victims’ town, which holds all the people the prisoner had wronged.

 They change, they adapt, they evolve.

 All for the continued existence of their enterprise.

* * *

 

Now if only the Prisoners would cooperate for once.

They knew that it would not be easy to reform a Prisoner, but they hadn’t expected that it would take them a hundred victims without a single one of them reaching the halfway in guilt.

Why would they not admit to their crimes?

The Prisoners just kept on coming, and the prisoners just kept on failing.

It was no different from a death penalty.

Perhaps…

Perhaps this was why the government agreed to their claims so quickly, because they did not believe they would be anything more than a bunch of murderers?

…no…

No, they must not give up.

They have come this far, they must not give up.

They must-

* * *

 

 _-The book shut lightly, letting the paper make a soft sound as the reader put the book down._

_The book had no name and no words, but it told the story nonetheless._

_The reader look a breath and let out a soft laugh as he leaned on the couch, for the events he had witnessed were truly something he wished he’s seen on screen, instead of simply reading it from a book. Through could it be called a book? It had no name and no words and was not written by any one person._ _But it held the history, as told by the minds of those who lived it._

 _“’Just a little more’ huh?” He said to himself, knowing no one could hear him “But is the goal they wish to achieve worth the price? Ha, of course not. Such foolish people they are,”_

_The reader was frowning, a feature he cannot do most of the time, for he was the twisted one, the smiling one, the green-eyed one, the one that is hated the most. Even by himself_

_“They just don’t understand, do they?” He said out loud “They’ve made so many mistakes, and yet they still believe their doing the right thing,”_

_The Reader sighed “This is all that man’s fault, everyone’s pain is all because of that one man,” Even his._

_The reader’s eyes opened, and he smiled when he felt the arrival of his conscious half. Yes, it was all their fault for his suffering, it was because of them that he was like this, that everyone became like this._

_The Reader stood up from his couch and laid the book down, where Russel could not see it. For if he saw it now, he would wonder why he had a book he did not know about._

_And…_

_He smiled_

_“Russel, good to see you today. What do you need to know?”_

_He doesn't want to become a monster..._

* * *

 

And then he came in.

A boy, no older than fourteen.

A murderer, no guilty than the rest.

 _Russel Seager_.

 

 


	2. The First Victim: Tabasa McNeil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the boy was brought to them, the first thing they thought was "Is this some kind of joke?"
> 
> Then they read his file.

At first they were disturbed, the child looked nothing like the prisoners they had worked with. The men that awaited death were fierce, unkempt, leering at every instance due to knowing that nothing they can do now can give them a worse punishment. The boy on the other hand was a quiet child who looked more like someone who became a victim than a murderer. He never slouched, never shouted, never did anything or joined anything that was considered bad, he was the perfect image of a polite young boy. Added to the fact that he was clearly too young to be put to death, Isn't there some kind of law against this? 

Then they read his file, and blanched in fear and disgust.

This boy, this small, 14 year old boy barely half their age, killed 9 people all by himself, including his own parents, a simple doctor, a kind nurse, two worshipers of god, a zookeeper, a policewoman, and even a girl from his own class. 

9 people, killed by this small child.

Suddenly, he didn't look so sweet anymore.

* * *

 

They had begun the procedure as planned.

No one was complaining anymore.

The conductor, a young woman with blond hair sighed. It was her job to explain to the prisoner the ongoing of this experiment, which is only polite to do. At first she was earnest on her job, thinking that if she were nice, then maybe they'ed have a better chance at being guilty. Alas, after the 100th failure, the job grew dull and her mood grew sour, she no longer believes this will work.

But for the sake of professionalism, she put a smile on her face as the screen flickered on, and from the tiny surveillance camera in the murderer's room, she saw the prisoner of the week looking at the screen dispassionately and gave her usual introductions.

"Good Morning, deranged maniac!"

Well, no one could fault her for her snark, right?

* * *

 

It was at the moment the injection began taking effect when one of the conductors noticed something strange.

The dreams cape was far larger than anything they had ever created.

The scale of a dreamscape is never often that large you see. Sometimes the size was enough to fit a small town, or just a village, or maybe even just big enough to hold a large building. That is because dreamscapes are solely powered by a patients brain functions, just like how a psychic uses the same neurons to teleport or mold the world itself.

The fact that this boy had enough power to create a dreamscape of this scale meant only that he was something similar to them, a psychic.

It was at that thought that one of the Guide Posts frowned in misplaced pity, because even in a time where Psychic users were known by many as real for once, children like him were still left out with no one ever finding out his true potential. 

It was because of that pity, misplaced or not, as well as an irrational urge to see what kind of dreamscape this boy can make, that when the assigned guide post was timidly entering the dreampod, she jerked her hand out and touched her shoulder, giving her a huge grin.

"Hey! Let me do this one for you, okay? okay!"

* * *

 

"What's she doing? Why is she there?!" 

"Sir?"

"Fairia! She's not this kid's Guide Post! It was supposed to be someone else!"

"Hm? Yes, so it seems, what of it?"

"What of it?!"

"Yes? It's not like this was the first time a Guide Post changed places with another one. And from what I can see, as long as she doesn't back out midway, there isn't anything wrong,"

"You-...you don't know?"

"Know what sir?"

"Raymond broke up with her,"

"...oh shit,"

"Yeah,"

"Does she know?"

" _Hell no,"_

"...what do we do now?"

"...We tell no one, that's what we do. We can't have our Promoter skirting around like some kind of mouse instead of selling his wares after all,"

"Ah, good, do you mind informing me when Raymond finds out about this? I want to have enough time to microwave some popcorn before she sics a knife on him,"

"...fine, but promise you'll share,"

"deal,"

* * *

 

The victim's town was a colorful place, like it came out of a classic kid's show. With it's vivid green grass and it's oddly shaped structures, it looked utterly harmless. 

Just like the victims that inhabit it.

They watched, as the boy greeted the zookeeper - Tabasa - with a blank expression, whereas the young man had given him a huge grin.

They watched as he meets Cody, the sister of the priest who died alongside her brother in a fire that he started, as if she was just another person.

They watched as the boy comes face to face with a strange looking Asian named Kantera, who looked nothing but delighted to meet the new face of the town.

They watched as Gardenia, the kid unlucky enough to get killed on her own birthday, immediately take a liking to him, even wanting to be friends.

They watched as the policewoman named Yumi come up to him with a carefree grin, as if he was just as innocent as everyone else was.

They watched as he speaks to an elderly man, the apparent mayor of the town, inside a large house. 

_("Who's he?" One of the Conductors asked while the other took a glance at the list of victims and shrugged.)_

They watched as he went behind the building to introduce himself to the nurse - now maid - Mireille Nif.

And they watched as he entered the holy grounds, knowing his own sins, and greeting the priest Dogma

The conductors watched as the victims all greet him happily in their own special way, not knowing who he is or what their purpose was, not knowing that they were introducing themselves to the one who made sure they would never grow old again. 

The murderer however, was unresponsive.

The conductors frowned at the boy's expression, or lack of one to be precise. Most murderers would be in an enraged mess of emotion by now, some even collapsing their own dream in guilt and fear at the sight of the people who they killed, yet this boy showed no emotion. Not a shred of guilt.

Another failure then.

Someone sighed in frustration, but continued their work. They'll just have to wait until the halfway mark so that they could officially denounce him.

A pity.

* * *

 

One of the victims, the zookeeper Tabasa, asked for a favor from the boy. Apparently, one of of the victims, the child Gardenia, had lost her hair accessory somewhere. The man wanted the boy's help in finding it. The serial killer accepted.

This caused the conductor to raise an eyebrow. A victim traveling with the murderer, that was a first. 

It didn't take long before they found out why.

"Are those zoo tickets their fighting?" One of the researchers murmured in disbelief, which only grew when said victim took out a  _rifle_ out of nowhere and began wildly firing bullets at the pieces of paper.

"I don't know man, conductors are weird," 

Then the kid started squating

"what,"

* * *

 

"Squating, really?" One of the conductors jeered when it became clear that the boy was _grinding_ , causing the Conductor in charge of the rpg-style combat to blush. 

"You, shut up!" She shouted, earning another round of laughter.

"You've been playing too much of that game, haven't you?" A friend of her's said remorsefully

"It's not called  _that game_ its-," 

"Oh god, she admitted it,"

"Next thing you'll know, she's gonna implement a giant sword in there too,"

_"I said shut up!"_

* * *

 

Their laughter stopped when the ironic duo reached the edge of a cliff and were now fighting what appeared to be a boss.

He who saw the sin, he who will gaze upon the killer for as long as he lived. The Eyewitness. _The Witnessing one_

It was a disgusting thing, with eyes flickering and bulging and a hand that pointed to the sky. It looked like it was pointing at them. Even when it transformed Into something they understood, they paled at the sight of the deformed ape and the many eyes it had in it's body.

They were disturbed, but what disturbed them the most was the voice that filtered through the monitor. It was a soft, broken thing, scratchy from disuse, and not a single shred of emotion was heard underneath it.

It took a while for them to realize that it was the murderer's voice.

_"Dad's yelling was annoying, so I decided to go to the zoo today. I got the entry fee from mom's purse."_

They listened in abject horror as the voice explained, slowly and without remorse, of how he killed the victim Tabasa, how the man was worried about him and how kind he was, and how both of these traits made it so easy for him to kill him, with the only witnesses being the monkeys.

There was no plan, no motive, just a jealous boy who killed someone for making his head hurt.

If there was any doubt this boy deserved to be in death row, it was all gone.

* * *

 

The first hints of guilt surfaced near the end of the happy dream. The kind and friendly Tabasa glitched and warped in front of their eyes. The murderer could only watch in horror as his victim, his dead victim, got up and cornered him, forcing him back into his room. 

And from there. it just got worse. 

* * *

 


End file.
